I’m happiest when I travel, but if I have to settle somewhere for a little while, I like that somewhere to be Santiago.
This is our final stop.
Actually, unfortunately, it’s not—we’re all going to fly back to Canada in a few days. It’s heartbreaking for me. I’m in love with Santiago.
What’s so special about Santiago? Honestly, nothing. Or rather, the city probably wouldn’t be special to you. Feng doesn’t understand why I love it, many backpackers find it boring too. Hell, I wouldn’t even recommend it to a first-time traveller with only a few weeks to spend in South America—there are other more exciting spots in Argentina, Peru or Brazil.
But I feel good in Santiago. From a practical perspective, it’s a good city if you want to relax. It’s safer than in Brazil, the weather is constant, and life isn’t too expensive. I also enjoy the atmosphere, the wide sunny streets, the different neighbourhoods, and the fresh food. It’s very walkable, big enough, and fairly friendly.
But I won’t sell you Santiago. It’s just me, I suspect.
I like Santiago the same way some people love Paris, Tokyo, the desert, the mountains, or that small town in bumfuck nowhere. It’s irrational and I’m fine with that because I tend to think that we, humans, have been taught to be logical but once in a while, we don’t have to make sense and justify ourselves.
Okay, I do have a theory—the bed theory.
How do you sleep at night? Bedsheets tucked, untucked, none? I make my bed military style and the bedsheet has to be tucked in tight at the bottom and on both sides—it makes me feel safe and anchored. I try my best not to mess up my cocoon and I’ve been known to remake hotel beds. I’m always in motion during the day but I usually wake up in the same position I fell asleep in, the sheets barely wrinkled—I think I roll over once or twice, like a pancake, that’s it.
At one point, after visiting enough cities around the world, I noticed I felt most comfortable staying in places with one or two physical boundaries—ocean, rivers, mountains, hills, a bay, a section of the Great Wall. I’m not a huge fan of dots in vast, flatlands. I wouldn’t live in the Prairies, for instance, and I like Beijing better than Paris.
In Santiago, I’m tucked in between the Pacific Ocean and the Andes. It feels cozy. Big, open spaces freak me out. I hate cold weather. I’d rather live in a cozy apartment than in a big house. See a pattern, here? Yeah, Canada and Ottawa are a bit of a challenge. I learned to like Canada—and some aspects of it are awesome—but honestly, without Feng, I probably wouldn’t have considered moving there.
Unfortunately, “I feel good in Santiago” doesn’t sound like a valid reason for a complete life change.
I’m confused.
Meanwhile, I’m wandering around Santiago, wondering about life. My feet know where to go but I’m lost.







Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino

Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino

Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino

Museo Chileno de Arte Precolombino


































when it comes to the bed-sheet part, you sound like my late mother! military style!
anyway, Santiago seems nice to me! not too crowded (assumption from the pictures you’d posted) or probably I fed up with Jakarta.
If only I live in San Diego, I probably fly to this city instead of Rio de Jainero
Santiago doesn’t feel too crowded, you’re right. Some streets are busy but sidewalks are wide enough and all in all, there’re “only” about 5 millions people.
That’s a tough spot to be in… And yes with Feng and Mark it would be much harder to leave it all behind and move there! But who knows… Spend all your winters there? If only it was so easy….
Unlike you, I hate when I’m tucked in bed! My Scotsman loves it and will lovingly tuck me in, which is so loving, but will be promptly destroyed haha
Enjoy the end of your stay
What’s with you, untucked people?? Are you scared of bed monsters?? 😉